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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27749209">Love of Fate</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightimedreamer/pseuds/nightimedreamer'>nightimedreamer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Carry on Countdown 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A LOT of it so proceed cautiously, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), M/M, Temporary Character Death, Time Loop, To Be Continued, another fair warning: I went off on the purple prose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:29:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,158</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27749209</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightimedreamer/pseuds/nightimedreamer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>This is how it started. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>With my hand over his heart, our fingers interlaced. With tears streaming down my face and despair clutching at my throat. With a spell—reckless, illegal, falling from my lips. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I tore myself open for him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I would do it again, a million times. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I didn't know then, but I really would.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>OR: Baz gets stuck in a time loop.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Carry on Countdown 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027081</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Carry On Countdown 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Love of Fate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello, all. I am back with another fic for the COC. Day 3: Retellings—this one is really painful, I must warn you, and there's death and some heavy angst there, so please proceed cautiously.<br/>This work is marked complete because I do believe it stands well on its own, but just to clarify: this is more a prologue than anything else. I like this concept, and I hope I can come back to expand on this story one day!<br/>(Then, it will probably have a happy ending.) (...most likely.)<br/>For now, though, this all there is.<br/>Source of the citations: <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eternal_return#">Eternal recurrence</a> and <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amor_fati">Amor fati</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><strong><em>Amor fati:</em></strong> <em> an attitude in which one sees everything that happens in one's life, including suffering and loss, as good or, at the very least, necessary. </em></p>
  <p><strong><em>Eternal recurrence: </em></strong> <em>the idea that all events in the world repeat themselves in the same sequence through an eternal series of cycles.</em></p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> The sky was blue and wide that day over the battlefield.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It was like no cloud dared to cover the sun that shined down on his face. Even in that moment, he was glorious. He had always been; always bathed in sunlight, even in the darkest moment.  </em>
</p><p><em> Even in his death. </em> </p><p> </p><p><b>Baz</b> </p><p> </p><p>The sky is blue and wide over the battlefield. Just like it is every day. </p><p>Simon Snow is a vision of defeated heaven on the ground; all bent in wrong angles and shredded like a discarded relic. </p><p>There's no one around to weep for him. No one but <em> me. </em> All the others are too occupied tending to the wounded and to themselves. To those who can still survive. </p><p>It's certainly ironic, isn't it? That the person holding his hand in his last moment is that who used to be his sworn enemy in life. The one who swore to be the cause of his death. </p><p>Worst of all: the one who <em> survived </em> when he didn't. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*** </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> No one wept for him, on that fatidic day.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I was the only one around. The only one crying over the Chosen One's dead body. The only one staring into his empty eyes, bearing their sky-like vastness.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Simon, Simon…"  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I didn't use his name very often. It was just part of my facade; something included in the package: I was his enemy.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I never offered him an ounce of comfort in life. In fact, my purpose was to make it more difficult. To provoke and taunt him, to break him, to kill him.  </em>
</p><p><em> (In the end, I  didn't. I  wouldn't have. I  never planned to. Maybe that's why the universe—or Fate, or destiny, or whoever—decided to take matters into its own hands.) </em> </p><p>
  <em> Still, in his last moment… I was there. Holding his hand. Crying out his name.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It felt like someone had ripped my own heart off my chest.  </em>
</p><p><em> (He was my heart, you know. He was never supposed to be </em> mine, <em> but he took a part of me with him anyway.) </em> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*** </b>
</p><p> </p><p>I close his eyes, gently, lingering a moment longer to caress his cheek. </p><p>Sometimes, I'll steal a kiss from him. Just a quick peck on the lips; the kind of chaste thing one would expect his damsel to give him. </p><p>Except there's no one else here to do it but me. And I want to do it—this is my one and only chance. Today, though, I let it go. </p><p>His head is cradled on my lap. Blood and wounds mark his features. Still, he's so beautiful. I love him so much. </p><p>Simon Snow was born to be a hero, and to die a hero. I never wanted to believe that—he deserved so much more. </p><p>A life. Happiness. A chance to grow up, to be loved, to build the family he never had. </p><p>I wanted that for him. I wanted everything for him, even if it wasn't with me. </p><p>(Never with me. My fantasies could never go this far.) </p><p>And <em> now… </em> </p><p>Now that their hero has saved them, fulfilling the prophecy and sacrificing his life in the process, there's no one else here to weep for his loss. </p><p>Simon Snow did what he came to do. </p><p>And no one cares about him anymore. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*** </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I don't know how long I was there, holding his hand.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I just wanted to lay there forever by his side. If he wouldn't get up to see the sun again, then I shouldn't, either. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It was unfair.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> One can't just kill the fucking sun.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But I was there. I saw it happen.  </em>
</p><p>(You were the sun, Simon Snow. How was I supposed to carry on without your light?)</p><p>
  <em> This is how it started.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> With my hand over his heart, our fingers interlaced. With tears streaming down my face and despair clutching at my throat. With a spell—reckless, illegal, falling from my lips.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I tore myself open for him.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I would do it again, a million times.  </em>
</p><p><em> I didn't know then, but I really would. </em> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>***</b>
</p><p> </p><p>It always ends like this. </p><p>Death comes to kiss him before I get the chance. Sometimes, he dies in my arms. Sometimes, he dies with his arm outstretched, reaching for me. One time, he died kissing me. </p><p>Today, I got here too late. He was already gone by the time I started chanting his name, heartbroken, and cradled his head on my lap. He didn't feel my light caresses, my fingers winding through his bloody, dirty hair. </p><p><em> "Simon, Simon…" </em> </p><p>The story differs. It changes almost everyday, and as far as I know, I'm the only variable. In the end, it's all my fault. </p><p>Because I can never prevent this. </p><p>Fate has a cruel, sick sense of humor. </p><p>I hate it. I hate it so fucking much for taking him from me every time. For giving me hope over and over again, just to crush my heart immediately after. </p><p>Everyday, when morning rises, Fate gives my heart back. In pieces, of course, leaving it for me to mend it. </p><p>And every time, there's a piece missing. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*** </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Amor fati,<em> I whispered to the clear blue sky, to the indifferent wind, to the dead boy in my arms. </em> Amor fati. </p><p>
  <em> Love of fate.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Love of his fate. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That's what he did, wasn't it? Embraced his fate. Died a hero's death to save all of us. Even those of us who didn't deserve it.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It was unfair, and so I couldn't let it happen.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I couldn't let him go.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I tore myself open for him…  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>*** </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Every day, I wake up and wish I could give him more. </p><p>Maybe that's what brings me back here, now. The wishing. The unfathomable pain of knowing this is all he (and I) will ever have. This half-day filled with tragedy. </p><p>No future. No past. Just this moment; stuck in a loop of eternal recurrence.</p><p>Simon Snow is dead. </p><p>But this isn't the end. Not just yet. </p><p>Fate thought it wasn't enough to make me watch him die once. </p><p>So, everyday, the story repeats itself, only with little changes. </p><p>This is only one version of it. Everyday, I witness one of its retellings. The only thing that never changes is the ending. </p><p>Well, for now. Because I still haven't given up. </p><p>Simon Snow is dead in my lap, but tomorrow morning, he'll wake up in his bed unaware of his fate, but still willing to run into its arms. </p><p>Tomorrow morning, I'll do what I can to save him. I won't lose him again—I can't. </p><p>But that's tomorrow. </p><p>Today, I just lie down by his side,  holding his hand, and watch the clouds as the wind blows.  </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading, folks! I hope this didn't hurt to much, and also that it wasn't too hopeless.<br/>(Also, I promise my next fics for the COC will be happier lol)<br/>You're welcome to come scream at me for it on <a href="https://nightimedreamersworld.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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